The False King
by We Did It For The Glory
Summary: When the Dominion Reveals their Tyrannical Intentions our Usual Hero steps up to Lead the Fight. Not All is Clear When the False King works in the Shadows and Nobody knows if their Friend or Foe. Enemies become Friends, Friends turn out to have Dark Secrets and the Threat of Domination Looms Overhead. (Fem!Dovahkiin)
1. Chapter 1

**Hi!**

 **I'm taking a break from the other things I've been writing since I've been playing ESO and Skryim non-stop. I may get back to them.**

 **This story is a lot of talking, the bits I've wrote anyway. I guess it's also reader lead since I'll be writing what people want to see.**

 **Hopefully the chapters will get longer, I just struggle to ever write a long first chapter. They're for setting the scene and I'd hate to drag that on too long.**

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The False King had become a term that was often whispered throughout the cities of Skyrim. A criminal Empire ran by a person who called themselves the False King, a person who sought knowledge above all else to use against others to cripple them before they even had a chance to rise against them. People often said the False king knows secrets about you that you don't even know.

The Dragonborn often wondered about the False King and what he or her as well as their subjects could do if they wanted to dominate the world. After running with the Thieves Guild for a while this hero knew exactly that information could do and it was one thing that most people struggled to find a defence against.

"I wonder what the False King knows about you." Farkas said as he passed the Dragonborn a mead.

The Half-Elf Dragonborn just shrugged. "Maybe how kinky my sex life is, not that they could use it against me. Too many people know." And with a wink she took a swig of her drink.

When races interbreed nine times out of ten they dominantly take after their mother's race. It had been different for the Dragonborn, be it by divine intervention or her father's theory of how his magic must have interfered, she had become a somewhat perfect mix of the both. Half Altmer, half Imperial with immense magical power and long livety. It seemed like a fantastic deal but the almost instant distrust especially when she was off saving the world was not great. Even after saving the world not once but three times she was somewhat distrusted.

"Arken, you should join up with the Companions. You must get bored adventuring on your own." Farkas said with a laugh as Arken, the Dragonborn, pulled a face.

"You're all about honour and I'm as honourable as an Assassin killing people for kicks." Arken said with a roll of her eyes. "I have a friend, this friend is just in Elsweyr retrieving a staff for that museum I've been helping up in Solitude. I would have went myself but Skyrim can barely last a day without me, Akatosh forbid I leave the country for weeks on end. And I don't want to be pulled into another country's problems, count me out."

Farkas laughed. "Sometimes I ask myself why we're even friends."  
Arken made a face that would suggest the reason was obvious. "All you Nords are so bleak and boring with no sense of humour, clearly I brighten up your life."

Arken took after the Imperial colouring, fair skin and dark brown hair but her eyes were amber, much like her elven fathers. Her ears came to a point and her features were quite sharp so it wasn't easy for her to hide her elven heritage but she had found herself in the company of the Companions. They accepted her as a person not an Aldmeri spy looking for nothing more than to see the downfall of the Nords.

"I'm going back to the Summerset Isles in a few weeks anyway. I want to finish my training as a Mage and the Aldmeri Dominion have just forgiven me for fighting against them in the Great War." She took a sip of her drink as Farkas gawked at her.

"I always forget you're a lot older than you look, Elves and their age it's too confusing." Farkas said.

"Theoretically an Elf can live to 1000, probably through the uses of basic restoration magic to keep himself healthy. They can live longer with the uses of more advanced magic, and if you're higher class. A common, non-magical elf would be extremely lucky to make it too 200, even past 100 can seem unlikely. My father, a Noble and an extremely powerful mage could probably make it past 1000 with ease unless of course, he's killed and perhaps much longer if he delves into… not quite legal magic."

"What about you?" Farkas asked.

"Sometimes I'm surprised I live to see tomorrow." The humourous but rather serious reply came. "I'm always at risk of getting killed, assassinated or getting some deadly disease."

"Still got the Dark Brotherhood after you?" Farkas asked to which Arken flashed him an evil smile.

"I sorted that issue out but it's people sending thugs after me. It's rather insulting." Arken rolled her eyes. "What's a thug against the Dovahkiin?"

"And she swears she's modest in her title." The ever so slightly smaller twin said as he walked into the hall before seating himself with Farkas and Arken. "Finally come to join the Companions welp?"

Arken made a face as if the very idea offended her. "Your talk of honour makes me sick to the stomach. I'm leaving for my homeland after I visit the Greybeards for their annual (and very boring) two day of silent meditation and after visiting various people to say I'm going to be gone for a long while. I'm required to go, so's Ulfric so I'll have to put up with him trying to convince me to join the rebellion."

"Never heard of that, you sure they didn't make that up to shut you up for a while?" Vilkas said to which Farkas chuckled at.

"It's supposed to help those who can use the voice to be able to continue using their normal tongue. Argnier found it in some old tome but since they're not sure if the Dragonborn is at risk of it like normal men and women are, I'm required to attend."

"I don't see how two days a year will help." Farkas said. "It just doesn't seem like enough."

"It's not, I have to do private meditation one day every month." Arken sighed. "It's boring but I do enjoy being able to communicate with people."  
"What does the meditation even consist of?" Vilkas asked always wanting to know more about the inner workings of the Thu'um and the Greybeards.

Arken shrugged. "It's meditation on both our common tongue and the Thu'um and keeping them separate." She interlaced her fingers. "The issue is the common tongue and the language of the Dovah can get mixed up and with the Thu'um being dominant the Common tongue get's lost. So we need to concentrate on making sure that doesn't happen."

Farkas shook his head lost in the explanation before seemingly deciding changing the subject would solve the problem. "So when are you leaving?"

"Ulfric has requested that I leave tomorrow to meet up with him in Ivarstead so that we have a day before we need to make the pilgrimage up the steps. He wishes to converse but by that he means harass me about joining the rebellion while I repeatedly tell him to fuck off. I often tell myself if I kill him and flee home I'll be celebrated as a hero there."

"But you don't?"

"I have little to no want to join the war, I'll stick to killing the already dead and bandits. I'd rather not kill people I know have a family and friends." She sighed. "Unless the Aldmeri Dominion declares war on us all again, I'm not becoming a Soldier again." She then laughed. "That'll never happen though, they're too cloak and dagger now."

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 **Thanks for Reading,**

 **Any Questions, Comments or the likes be sure to just PM or Review I tend to respond very quickly.**

 **If anyone wants to submit Ideas or help I'm more than willing for that, more often than not I've co-written things.**


	2. Chapter 2

**I always feel like I've written way more than I have, but that may be due to the fact I write on Google Docs and it constantly needs to be messed around with to keep it happy.**

 **Anyway, Hi and enjoy.**

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The walk to Ivarstead was especially long in this cold winter month. There were no enemies to be sensed or travellers to talk to so naturally the Dragonborn allowed her mind to wander back to memories almost forgotten.

She'd joined the Thieves guild shortly after she arrived in Skyrim via boat, it seemed the best place to hide and hang low where she could live a mundane albeit slightly dangerous life. The world had other plans for her and perhaps in preparation for the tasks that lay ahead she found herself thrown into the middle of Mercer vs the Guild. Arken saved the guild and built it back up practically by herself all too willing to do jobs as long as people remained silent about her existence. It worked for the Guild and it worked for her.

The stuff with the Nightingales and dedicating herself to a Daedra wasn't something she wanted to do but despite everything and the blasphemy she had shouted at Karliah she did it. Arken's beliefs were along the lines of the Altmer, she believed that she would be reincarnated and kiss that possibility goodbye as she watched the Dunmer thief offer herself and Brynolf up to the Daedra she had failed.

Then after Mercer lay dead and they walked from the Dwemer ruin she was told that she was know the new Guildmaster and try as she might she couldn't reject the offer. They wouldn't let her. From then on her life became rather dull until the whole Dragonborn nonsense.

 _It was just another day in the Cistern, the Guildmaster sat at her desk studying some reports and every so often casually told various members of the Thieves Guild to actually go out and do some work instead of being loud and annoying. The reports varied from potential targets and jobs to people who being who had borrowed gold and even went to enemy guilds that needed to be… wiped out._

" _Ark, can I have a word?" Brynolf had said as he hovered to the side of her desk looking at her with a face that could only suggest something bad had happened._

" _Has Vex finally killed Delvin? I have money on that." She replied as she stood from her desk to follow him into the empty training room. "More money than I care to admit."_

" _Nothing like that Ark, Helgen got attacked. Someone is claiming a Dragon, but that's ridiculous, either way we have people based there and I haven't heard back from them." He replied as he scratched his beard. "I think you should go look."_

 _Arken raised an eyebrow. "You tend to make me stay here because you're scared I'll get myself killed, what makes it so different now?"_

" _The Thalmor have been seen around there, if one of us are caught poking about we'll be out right killed but with who you are… actually are you have a safety net if the worst happens."_

 _Her eyebrow remained raised as she drummed her fingers on her thigh. It was risky, she didn't want to be caught and have to go back. She escaped that life because she hated being trapped. To have tasted freedom only to be caught again may have killed her but the Guild was family._

" _Is that a yes or a no lass? You can say no, we'll all understand." He added offering her a soft smile._

 _Arken let out a breath and shrugged. "As if I'd ever say no. It's unlikely I'll be able to avoid the Thalmor though, I've trained at the same College most of their Wizards have. It's standard procedure to cast 'Detect Life'." She moved her right hand to tap her chin thoughtfully. "As long as they show no recognition of me I can claim I'm looking for a family member, my fiance was part of the Legion and was stationed here. He hasn't come home and I'm very worried so I had to check for myself." Her voice practically dripped with sarcasm as Brynolf nodded._

" _You're going to have to hide your ears lass. Wear your hair down and keep a hood up, it's cold there so they won't think anything or it."_

 _With the planning done Arken headed out as soon as she could, donned in a basic tunic and breeches all while hoping she didn't run into anything too dangerous. She trusted her abilities but even the best fighter can get caught by surprise._

 _For now the area was void of Thalmor but not wanting to count her blessings she moved quickly. A charred body and untouched journal later she was lead towards a cave to find an Imperial Soldier at the entrance bleeding out._

" _What are you doing here?" He wheezed. "There was a Dragon, you should be warning Riverwood!"_

 _Looking down at the brunnette nord she got down on her knees and summoned her restoration magic to her fingertips allowing the golden glow to fill her hands as she healed the poor man of his most serious injuries._

" _Helgen was destroyed two days ago, whatever was here won't be anymore. I'm surprised you're alive." Arken said as she helped him too his feet. "I'm Arken, Arken Creek."_

" _Hadvar, there's a man in there. He's injured too, I don't know if he's alive but I won't be able to live with myself if I don't go check." He said as she tried to urge him to leave for Riverwood._

" _Despite my healing your body is weak, I'll go in there and see but honestly, it was a fluke you're alive. Don't expect anything." She offered to which Hadvar nodded, promising to wait as she ventured into the cave._

 _It was if the Divine's had came down to protect the man, he was in a much worse state and by rights should have died hours ago if not when he sustained some of his injuries but potions and healing magics managed to put him back on his feet as she helped the Stormcloak limp out._

" _Ralof…" Hadvar said before swallowing. "I know we're on opposite sides of the war but we can't just throw away our friendship, we grew up together for Kyne's sake, not after we almost died to that thing… that dragon."_

 _The man called Ralof could barely speak but nodded._

" _I was looking for two men, one's a Breton and the other is a Nord." Arken said to Hadvar as they walked down the trek towards Riverwood._

" _The pair where the Breton is taller than the Nord?" Hadvar asked and Arken nodded. "They went on a supply run just before the executions, to be honest I think they left so they didn't have to be in the same place as well..." Ralof offered a filthy look. "Don't blame them, they said something about going to Solitude to get that Spiced Wine. Friends of yours?"_

" _I served with the Nord." It wasn't entirely a lie, the best lies were ones that were partially true._

" _You were part of the Legion?"_

 _Arken nodded. "Yeah, part of the Navy but there was a bad accident with the boat I served on. I was one of the few survivors, I had nightmares for months and couldn't step back onto a boat so I got honourably discharged."_

" _I heard about that, it was about a year ago wasn't it?"_

They'd both thanked her profusely when they got into the small Village before asking her to go to Whiterun to warn the jarl. One thing lead to another and before she knew it she walked back into the Ragged Flagon only to be assaulted by Brynolf.

 _His grip on her shoulder was a little too tight and the arm slung around her shoulder made sure she couldn't quite escape. "Ark, tell me it isn't true lass?"_

" _What isn't true?" Her voice had raised a few octaves as she attempted to keep a straight face as she stared at a crack in the wall._

" _I've heard rumours a certain Creek had become Dragonborn."  
_ " _That's ridiculous Bryn, how could a steam become the Dragonborn?" She could lie to the best of people but when it came to the Guild, to people who might as well be family she struggled and her voice only got higher._

" _How could a thief become Dragonborn?" Brynolf replied his voice growing more and more serious._

 _Arken sighed. "You're born Dragonborn, it's your blood and soul." She offered a tight laugh. "Father always said mother was descended from the Septims."_

 _Brynolf then squeezed her shoulder and sighed. "I'll hold down the Guild while you go save the world. Arken… Good Luck."_

" _They're asking little old me to kill a Demi-God Bryn, I think Nocturnal herself will have to start pouring buckets of luck on me."_

There must have been scouts watching on the road, too far away she couldn't sense them but close enough to be able to watch out for her. Ulfric waited for her, along with Ralof and surprisingly Hadvar but he was in civilian clothes with Ulfric every so often giving him uncertain looks.

" _Kodaav_ , Ralof, Hadvar." It had become somewhat customary for her to refer to Ulfric as bear in the language of the Dovah.

" _Dovahkiin."_ Ulfric replied and offered his hand for her to shake as she reached them. Arken always thought about not taking it but Ulfric was a well of knowledge on the things Arngeir wouldn't talk to her about.

"Arken, it's been a while." Hadvar said.

"Aye, I heard you punched one of Hadvar's boys in the face after talking to Elsif. Well Done." Ralof smirked at Hadvar who could only roll his eyes.

"Hadvar, if only you'd change sides. I've offered you so much, marriage, money and even the head of a Dragon." Arken smiled brightly at him. "I'd feel bad if I killed Elsif with you still being on that side."

"But it wouldn't change your opinion on the war." Ulfric stated to which Arken nodded.

"I really don't want to do anymore fighting than I have too. I'm quite content helping out with that Museum. I tend to only kill Draguar and Dwemer contraptions. The occasional Bandit, but they choose to attack me." She offered a shrug and a sigh. "I'll only join an Army again if the Aldmeri start another war but they won't." Arken offered them all a small smile.

"Aye, they're still recovering. Thank Talos." Ralof replied.

"They're cowards." Ulfric added.

"I don't really like them either." Hadvar offered.

Arken rolled her eyes. "The Aldmeri Dominion or the Altmer in general?"

"You're an exception Ark." Ralof said. "You're Half Imperial?" It wasn't a question to her race, more of a question if that really made it any better.

"That didn't make it any better Ralof, I think you should leave the talking to me." Hadvar said, ever the kinder one, to which Ralof nodded and walked into the Inn. "I'm working as a go between at the moment, taking information about Dragon Sightings and submitting it to you. The General said it was a necessary evil to work with Ulfric in this matter, something along the lines of the Dragons don't have sides."

Arken nodded, previously having wondered who could work with both sides without getting killed. Yet she supposed she did understand, Dragon's wanted to dominate and they wouldn't take sides in a _joor_ war. They were a threat to them all… well all expect her, most did their best to avoid her now. Of course, if she sought them out for a fight they were practically honour bound to fight her or flee and lose their dignity. Dragons apparently were very dignified creatures, the Altmer of the Immortal World.

Sometimes she wondered if the Dragonborns were really just Dragons born in the wrong bodies or forced into them by Akatosh. A Dragon without wings was a sad Dragon indeed. Arken sought the freedom of being able to fly, often standing at the very edge of high cliffs and mountains laughing into the wind as peered at the world around her, it gave anyone with her a fright.

Odahviing knew of her troubles and repeatedly offered to take her upon his back and fly through the air but her response had been that would be like saying sitting in a boat was swimming. He had chuckled at her and watched as she gazed upon the rolling landscape of Skyrim laughing to herself as the wind flowed around her.

"Dragonborn?" Ulfric asked to which Arken suddenly looked up at him. "You weren't responding, is something on your mind?"

"Ahh, nothing major but I've been thinking about it for a while." She said quickly brushing it off and made a show to shiver. "Come, my foriegn and clearly subpar body isn't used to the cold like you hardy nords." With that she walked into the Inn.

Seated in the basement of the Inn for privacy and protection was when the talking truly began. On the outside Arken was calm and collected, nothing could ever bother her but on the inside it was naturally a different story. She fretted and she worried, she often considered doing away with her adventuring life and retiring allowing the world to fall in disarray if it couldn't hold itself up.

"I'm not convinced I can do it anymore." Arken said with a sigh as she opened a bottle of mead. "I'm going back to the Summerset Isles to 'complete', and I use that word loosely, my training as a Mage and the likelihood is they'll put me through some tests, give me the certificate and send me on my way."  
"So…" Ulfric prompted.

"I'll come back to Skyrim, keeping fighting and adventuring. I've gotten to a state where I've done away with the notion of love and marriage all together." She sighed.

In her explanation to him she gave him every view she had on the topic and Ulfric just nodded and listened. With the place her family held in society she would have expected to marry for political gain but her father had encouraged her to marry for love, he did it with an Imperial no less and while the Dominion grumbled about it they didn't do anything.

She'd hit the point she refused the notion of love. She could die the next day and if someone loved her it would be devastating to them and Arken wasn't going to put them, whoever they may be, through that. It was also that if she married someone her enemies would try to use them against her and she didn't want that either.

But what if she, Arken, wanted to fall in love. What if she wanted someone she could return home to and just be in love with. She came from two very long lines of powerful mages, she had a legacy to carry on. It was getting to the point she was unsure if she wanted to bed people.

"I'm actually scared I'll have sex with someone and the possibility in the middle of it they'll try and kill me. It's ridiculous, I don't know how I have this many enemies." Arken pouted as Ralof couldn't contain his laughter. "I killed Alduin, people should be falling at my feet singing my praises not sending hired thugs because the Dark Brotherhood keeps telling them to fuck off."

Hadvar was only the sympathetic one, while disagreeing with her reasoning behind it, he understood that it must be hard for her to constantly have to watch her own back and sympathised that it must be even harder after everything she's done. Ulfric remained, for the most part, expressionless but his lips twitched into a smile on occasions. Ralof just laughed at the poor Dragonborn as she pouted and looked sorry for herself.

"Do you really want to get married though?" Ulfric asked, watching her carefully.

Arken nodded, overly enthusiastically. "So I can join the guard and say 'I used to be an Adventurer like you until I look an arrow to the knee'." Her attempt at the accent was horrific but it managed to amuse the others. "I jest, but I'm thinking long term."

"Get in touch with 'The False King', maybe he could give you information on your enemies." Ralof said, but the False King was said in a whisper. People feared that to say it would invoke his wrath for he was a secret and so they whispered like secrets should be.

"You act like I hadn't already thought of that. Believe me, my enemies aren't your average hooligans." Arken said with a sigh and rolled her eyes. "The False King." Note that she didn't say this in a whisper. "Isn't all people think they are."

"What sort of name is 'The False King'?" Ulfric asked, his voice low and thoughtful.

Arken shrugged. "The Divines probably know but by the sound of it this False King probably sides with the Daedra."

The three men nodded in agreement.

"It's a shame but betrayal is always around the corner." Hadvar said with a thoughtful expression. "Nords can be considered an honour bound race of people but I've seen just as many nords stab each other in the back as I've seen other races do it."

"You should see the Altmer courts, it's always a laugh. I'm not forward to going back to that, I'll be expected to attend a couple functions before I return." She rolled her eyes. "Maybe I'll just kill them all and be done with it, better to die slaughtering those who seek to weaken the empire than…" She shrugged. "Better than fighting Dragons at any rate, the ultimate dragon slayer slain by a dragon is not how I want to be remembered."

There was silence for a while before Arken snorted and downed a whole bottle of mead before uncorking another one only to down it too.

"What's so funny?" Ralof asked.

"I was just thinking that the vein Tullius has on his forehead would pop if he saw us now." She rolled her eyes. "I got talking to him a while back, asking how the war goes and if there were any Dragons he wanted slaying. Turns out he's rather happy I have decided not to partake in the war, better not there than against him."

"What if you joined the Legion?" Hadvar asked. "Well returned…"

"He knows my feelings on Elsif and he also said it wouldn't sit right to use someone who saved the world as a tool." She offered a sad smile. "I'm really just a weapon to most, people don't tend to look past my power to see a person underneath it all."

They talked for what seemed like hours before turning in. Then when the sun rose the Bear and the Dragon did too only for Arken to look at the steps and wonder if she really had to go up to High Hrothgar. A cold, long and perilous journey wasn't particularly on her to do list.

She was laughed at by the three men and put on her way as Ralof and Hadvar waved goodbye and Ulfric took the lead. Grumbling aside the journey was rather uneventful as was their entrance into High Hrothgar before they were forced into silence and meditation.

Arken's story wouldn't have been half as interesting if things went as she expected them too. She hadn't meditated for half a day before someone barged their way into the home of the Greybeards. At first she'd wondered why Ralof and Hadvar were all the way up here when then promised to remain down there and wait for Ulfric's and her return but she quickly noticed who Ulfric was staring at.

"Tullius?" Arken exclaimed forgetting any promise to remain silent. "Is Skyrim in such disarray that you'd come suffer Ulfric's presence?" Not missing a beat she continued. "It hasn't been a day yet, does Skyrim desperately need me so?"

"I wish I could tell you to stop being so… insufferable." Tullius said having finally regained his breath. "The elves… they're going to attack Whiterun."

"Which Elves?" Arken asked, not liking what she was hearing.

"The Aldmeri Dominion, they've declared all out war on well… everyone."

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 **Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed.**


	3. Chapter 3

**I've decided I'd rather do more of an intrigue, planning, cloak and dagger sort of story rather than all out war. Of course I'll have some fighting as it can't be avoided.**

 **Many Thanks for Reading**

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"Tell me this is some elaborate joke." Arken said before swallowing her nervousness down. "The Empire is too weak to fight them again, Skyrim is divided. We'll loose!" Her outburst made the whole room cringe, even the Greybeards. For they all knew her words held some truth.

Ulfric placed a comforting hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently, in the way a father would do for their stressing child. "What can we do? Roll over and let the elves win? The Aldmeri Dominion dream of the time back when Men were slaves to the Mer, I would rather die fighting than have to see that."

"I'll go help defend Whiterun, you both need to go to your respective camps nearby and rally troops. Then pray you get there in time." She said to both men to which they nodded, neither particularly happy with being the ones taking orders but war was war and Arken was being a voice of reason. She'd most likely have to figurehead their side of the war for who better than the Dragonborn, she who has saved the world.

"How will you get there? It's at least a day by foot and there's nowhere to get a horse." Tullius asked as he watched the woman carefully.

" _Odahviing."_ Her words were like a whisper in the wind flowing away from them and out into the sky. Moments later a roar responded to her words and the red dragon flew down into the courtyard awaiting her command. "I won't get the Dragon's involved, that's basically begging for trouble but I have a few friends."

So the men watched her approach Odahviing and took note of how she held herself as she spoke. While her voice may have asked but her body language demanded, she held herself like a king and demanded respect from all those around her. It amused Ulfric that Arken at this moment of time could be considered the King of Dragons. A mortal ruling over willing Dragons, who would have thought.

Odahviing had clearly agreed to allow the Dragonborn to ride on his back to Whiterun as she quickly and gracefully climbed onto his back as if she'd done it a thousand times before and looked towards the two Generals. Her eyes were filled with uncertainty and her mouth moved to become a sad smile.

"I sense the end of a story." Then with those Cryptic words Odahviing took flight and soared away from the Throat of the World and towards the city of Whiterun.

"She means she believes this may be her end." Arngeir said before any questions could be asked. "Arken believes that this will be the death of her, you're sending her to her death and she won't stop you."

"Arken said she'd done away with any notions of love." Hadvar whispered. "She's known for a while, hasn't she?"

Ralof watched as the Dragon's form disappeared into the distance. "She fully intended to die in her homeland, to see her family once more."

"She knows that her death is on the horizon but not how, she hoped she could die in her homeland but Arken... She is Ysmir." Arngeir said. "May the Divines let her have the time to complete the tasks ahead."

" _Mal Dovah_ , little Dragon, your _Dinok,_ Death, isn't certain." Odahviing said as they vanished in the distance. Arken remained silent as she stared at the clouds around her, concentrating on the feeling of the wind whipping around her. " _Dovahkiin._ "

Arken sighed, a long and deep sigh. "It comes soon and quickly Odahviing, I know and I can sense it the way I sense a Dragon on the horizon. I do not know when or how but soon." Fear was evident, even Arken was scared of death but not perhaps for the right reasons. She had many things left to do. "I pray that Akatosh decides he'd quite like me by his side for I'm not sure where I'd go if he does not."

"You were promised a place in Sovngarde." Odahviing offered to which Arken gave a wistful sigh.

"I'm no Nord." Then she gave an undignified snort. "There are tasks ahead, I can't worry on my impending doom lest I hasten its arrival."

Obsession, it was one of the many things that could lead a person to extreme lengths. It was never as nice as love or as cruel as hate but it was a terrifying thing in it's own right. Obsession came in many forms, and each could be as bad or as simplistic as the other.

He was obsessed with the Dragonborn though he'd known her before that. She was always better than him, getting betters marks in the Mages College and always scoring better in the exams. She was a Half-Blood, she shouldn't have mattered. But she did and he resented her for it.

The Dragonborn would be his, one way or the other. It was just how that mattered, how could he trap the single most dangerous person in the world? Clearly too strong to be detained and controlled, too loved to just go missing. Too well known to try and hide in plain sight. It struck him, a play of feelings. He would make the Dragonborn fall in love with him

It was never easy, trying to get close enough to Whiterun while on Dragon back tended to lead to Guards shooting arrows at the Mythical Beast. It always ended up with the shout 'Become Ethereal' and the poor Dragonborn falling hundreds of feet to land very ungracefully but somehow unharmed. It freaked the people of Whiterun out, it freaked the Dragonborn out but desperate times tended to call for desperate measures.

"Hail, Companion!" Arken shouted as she jogged up to the Newest Welp, a young Nord lad who looked like he'd never saw a battle in his life. His skin too clear of scars, his hair a fragile platinum blonde and his blue eyes too full of life.

"Miss Creek?" The Nord boy asked, tilting his head in confusion. "You aren't due back for two days. Did something happen?"

She offered a tight smile. "Tell your Harbinger that Dragonborn is requesting his attendance at Dragonsreach like ten minutes ago."  
"He knows your name Miss Creek." The Nord boy said, somewhat confused. The poor lad seemed to remain in a perpetual state of confusion.

"Say Dragonborn, he'll understand my meaning." Arken replied. "Be quick, the matter is dire."

She watched briefly as the lad ran off towards the Halls of Jorrvaskr pondering a few things. Arken didn't even know his name but he knew hers, her title and many other things. She supposed there were many people that knew more about her than she them. It seemed she'd never be able to live a life of peace lest she ran away to some deserted corner of the world to retire.

She hadn't been in Dragonsreach for five seconds before her presence was knew throughout. The Jarl watched her with a slight smile as she walked up to his throne and offered him a grim look.

"That face doesn't suit you, I assume something bad has happened?" Jarl Balgruuf asked as he watched the woman fidget in front of him.

"The Aldmeri Dominion has declared war on both Skyrim and the Empire, the Thalmor march on Whiterun." Arken looked around the room that had suddenly gotten deathly silent as many eyes were upon her.

"What are Ulfric and Tullius doing on this matter?" The Jarl asked carefully possibly hoping not to instill any more fear in his townspeople.

"Both are rallying troops to come and aid Whiterun though the likelihood is they won't reach here in time. They will, possibly, come in time to be able to hound the Thalmor from behind."

Balgruuf snorted. "What a time for them to set aside their differences. Let's hope that this alliance lasts." He said as he rose from his throne. "I'll have all my Guards on alerts, we have had reports of high Thalmor activity but we had been assured it was of no worry…" His voice trailed off.

"It was a Ploy, a good one at that. They most likely promised the Empire some more of their own troops to quell the rebellion. The troops were needed, they weren't going to be rejected." Arken said with a sigh and a shrug. "I'm not one for Strategy my Jarl but I offer you my blade in protection."  
"If you're on the front lines I doubt I'll need protection but I'm no Milk Drinking warrior and Ireleth is my Housecarl for a reason." He said with a small smile and then gestured towards the Court Wizard. "Farengar is no shabby mage either."

"I asked Kodlak to meet us here, your Guards are brave men but the Thalmor are something else. We need the Companions, I offer the gold to hire them from my own coffers if needs be." She rubbed the back of her neck, unsure if the Nord would take it as a slight but the answer didn't come.

A chuckle sounded from behind her and when she turned it was the man she had just spoken of.

"I came here as quick as I could, it is rare when you use your title little one. Protecting Whiterun, mine and the Companions home will come at no cost and will bring us great honour." Kodlak said but the smile soon fell from his face. "Neither Skyrim or the Empire has recovered enough for this."  
The Dragonborn sighed. "I'm still trying to figure out when they're attacking Skyrim before Cyrodiil." War and Strategy had never been her forte, she was just a soldier at the end of it all. She knew how to fight and could stomach killing.

"The Nords were part of the push that threw the war into a Stalemate." Kodlak replied. "We're a very determined and honour driven race. We won't back down and the elves fear us for that."

"Even the strongest of people can break Kodlak." Arken swallowed as she turned to look at the great doors of Dragonsreach. "The Methods the Aldmeri Dominion employ to their enemies…" Again she swallowed as if her words refused to come out. "Let's just say I've been a War Prisoner before and they didn't care who or what my father might have been."

"And you talk of going back?" Kodlak asked.

A small smile crept onto the Dragonborn's face as she ignored the question. "It's been a long time since I've fought in a war." She snorted. "I'd hate to be them."  
"Revenge isn't a righteous path Dragonborn. Don't let it rule your heart." Kodlak said quietly to her as Balgruuf made a noise of agreement.

Whatever her response might have been was forgotten when the first crash was heard. It was too soon. Arken was convinced they had more time. Almost adamant that they had more time but in the world of magic and dragons nothing was truly certain. So she ran.

Sprinted really, through the halls of Dragonsreach and down the stairs. Through the town and past the houses. Then she reached the gate. Shouts, screams and fighting. It could all be heard from behind the gates but they wouldn't let her through. Anger, it made her angry to be prevented from protecting others. So she waited, standing at the gate and waiting for them to break through. She pitied those that did.

With Altmer Magic and the lack of magic resistant on the behalf of the Nords the gate came crashing down rather quickly. Some of the Dominion warriors recognised her as Dragonborn, other's as a fearsome fighter but all of them saw her as an obstacle.

"Auri-el choose me Brothers, can you say the same for yourself?" She said as she drew her sword. It was a rather deadly looking thing, silver with seemingly unnecessary decorations and embedded with blood rubies.

They lashed out. With magic and blade but she moved like Auri-el himself. Carefully avoiding their attacks and throwing up wards for the ones she couldn't. Like a warrior of legend she slashed and struck out quickly and deadly as she made short work of those unfortunate enough to challenge her.

"Well… that was easy." The Guard captain said from upon his vantage point. "I wouldn't take a breath now Dragonborn, they have a mage on their field."

"They have many mages." The Dragonborn's reply came.

"Not your bog standard elf magic, one of the proper ones lass." He replied almost tiredly before he turned to bark orders at the remaining guards to protect the city and not let them through at any cost.

"I'll deal with the mage. Perhaps they'll be a good fight, Dragons are becoming too easy for me." There was a light uncaringness to her voice that made the people around her worry. Even the greatest of warriors should never underestimate their opponents for that can and most likely will lead to their downfall.

Of course what they didn't know is the Dragonborn had already accepted her inevitable death, it was just the where that worried her. She'd rather die in battle than die embarrassingly than choking on a chicken bone. The thought was quickly thrown to the side as she strode forwards, hand grasping her blade. She had considered that if she died Whiterun was screwed but it was easier to take life one step at a time.

The Dominion warriors parted before her as she walked forwards towards the mage, she had fully intended to fight her way through but this… this was something else. Clearly their Mage, whoever they may be wanted a discussion or a duel. Either or the Dragonborn's nerves started to creep up upon her. Even without her title she was a deadly force by her own right and this person wasn't trying to weaken her in anyway.

Even if it would be Pigs to the Slaughter, it's not like the Aldmeri Dominion had ever cared before.

"If you're got to part, I highly suggest you bow. Clearly some of you know who I really am." Arken announced as she glared at them. To this, they all faltered but didn't bow. Yet several more steps back were taken.

"That's rather cocky, even for you." The Mage had finally appeared, donned in his white Aldmeri Dominion robes that was embroidered with their ridiculous emblem.

"Valnath, are you so sick of being in my shadow you came all the way to Skyrim to try and kill me?" Arken asked before her arm swept across in front of her gesturing to the landscape. "I've made the Dragon's bow before me, what can you do?"

The Mage named Valnath offered a half smile. He was the typical Altmer, blonde hair and sharp facial features. Attractive if you didn't mind the ever evident ego. The smug smile infuriated the Dragonborn, made her itch to kill. It wasn't easy trying to contain the Dragon's need to dominate.

"Your father misses you." Valnath said as he watched Arken with keen interest. "Your brother too, although I don't see why you associate yourself with him. You and your father posses such magic and he…" He shook his head.

Arken almost snarled. "Magic ability shouldn't define people, neither race nor standing. Life is Life Valnath, you'd do well to understand that. Along with the rest of your pathetic lot."

"You have it rather easy, don't you Ayrenn?" He paused and smirked at her reaction. "Do you not like the your Altmer name? Does it upset you to be associated with us but I digress, back to my point. You're both man and mer, safe from both in the grand scheme of things. You sided with the Empire but the Aldmeri Dominion allowed you back… until you ran away again."

"And I side with the Empire again, you're fools if you think you can defeat me and my personal empire of Dragons." An empty threat but he didn't need to know that. He thought her volatile, power hungry and willing to do anything for that she thought was right. "Enough talk, I challenge you on the honour of our ancestors. Battle me or forever be disgraced by them. Better to lose than to be a coward!"

"Can you do that? Being a half-breed?" Valnath asked, tilting his head to the side in thought.

"You would dishonour my father with those words?" The reply came.

"I suppose I'll have to accept. I haven't heard of one of these duels happening in over 1000 years! I'd hate to miss out." Valnath said only leaded to the soldiers to form the dueling circle perhaps praying it didn't get too violent. "May I pick the… rules shall we say for the fight? Usually the council decides them but…" He made the theatric of looking around. "They're not here."  
"Only if I'm allowed to reject them if I don't deem them fit." Arken's dry reply came to which Valnath shrugged.

"It only seems fair." He replied with a small but thoughtful smile. "No weapons, unless you carry a dueling knife."

She nodded in agreement, planting her sword in the ground. "I suppose you'll ask me to do away with my Thu'um."

Valnath smiled. "This isn't about war anymore, or what you and I can do. I choose to do this because I wanted to fight you. I have to prove that I'm better than you. I was your Father's apprentice yet he favoured you! I was supposed to be at the top of the college but it was always you!"

"I see you never did stop being petty." She sighed and readied herself. "Anything else you'd like to add?"

"If I win, you return to the Aldmeri Dominion and become my wife." He seemed almost upset when Arken's face remained impassive.

"When I win, you'll drag your sorry arse back to your precious Council and tell them you got beat up by the Half-Blood." Arken said with a roll of her eyes. "You'll never defeat me. I'm the product of impeccable breeding. I can't say the same about you… your parents were lower class."

Altmer Duels weren't just about winning, they were also about putting on a show and impressing the audience whoever they may be. Big flashy spells were preferred along with a drawn out duel. The more you impressed, the better the rewards were if you won and the less harsh the punishment if you lost. Of course in this situation that didn't really matter, the winning's had already been set.

Magic was about attunement, movement and concentration. You have to be attuned to the magic to be able to grasp it, your body moves to summon it and your mind concentrates to keep the spell up.

Arken was attuned with ancient magic, her body moved gracefully across the battlefield as she concentrated on summoning her magic to show outside her body. The opening act, so to speak.

A magic, spectral dragon emerged from her hands and coiled around her body. Valnath clicked her fingers, looking somewhat lazy and a Phoenix appeared from his hands. It was strange, two magical creatures when magic tended to only show as mundane beasts.

The Phoenix shocked her, and the Dragon seemed to have surprised him.

"Well… a Dragon for the Dragonborn." Valnath muttered before he swept his arm out and the Phoenix flew towards Arken.

In a swift movement the Dragon was in front of Arken and intercepted the attack. Once the threat retreated it returned to coiling around her body. Magic manifested itself in many ways, but it could all come to Defensive or Offensive.

He frowned, she glared and then fire was thrown. Arken ducked and weaved through the oncoming flames Valnath so carelessly tossed. He thought this an easy fight. She didn't care.

Arken's movement suddenly slowed, her body froze in place as ice covered her. Valnath smirked, happy with his diversion. Yet it took seconds for flames to burst from the ice angrily, exploring the shards outwards which struck the soldiers that made the ring. Some were quick enough to throw up wards but other's hissed in pain.

Magic sparked across the circle as they poked and prodded looking for weaknesses. It had been a long while since they'd been in a classroom together nevermind dueled in mock battles. Valnath relied on tactic and strategy while Arken had always relied on instinct.

Anger, it became evident as the spells gained more power but loss control. Arken's anger was raw while his was full of a passionate anger. Rivals meeting upon a battlefield was a destructive thing.

It was only then when it became evident that this was all just an elaborate distraction as the Dominion soldiers converged upon Whiterun. It had to end, there and then. Arken wasn't convinced Whiterun could stand without her, a lack of faith that had been drilled in.

It had been joked, once upon a time, Arken was danger prone and would do anything to win. It made her unpredictable, it gave her an edge. She needed to win, wanted to win and no one would stand in her way. The Dragon in her demanded dominance and just this once she'd submit to the craving.

It happened quickly, a lighting strike that flashed her forward in the battlefield. Her hand on his neck as she used strength he had no idea she had to lift him.

"Submit." She growled, her eyes flashing a dragon gold. Arken dropped him and he crumbled to the ground, gasping for air. "You left too much to the stakes, if I lost so would Skyrim. A magic duel becomes a fight for freedom. Next time Valnath, perhaps we'll fight on a more even field. Do you submit?"  
"For now." He almost growled out, clearly hating being at her mercy but then he was surprised as she knelt and pressed a kiss to his forehead that was coated with a sheen of sweat.

"Tell my father I miss him and that I can't come back." She whispered before turning and walking away with the ring opening before her. The ring was honour bound to allow her to leave. Even in war.

Her pace quickly picked up as she ran back to the fighting in the City. Praying that perhaps a miracle had happened.

* * *

 **I'm still open to suggestions, help or just general (but perhaps not cruel :p) Criticism**


	4. Chapter 4

Of course, despite the urgency of the Dragonborn's situation the enemy wasn't just going to let her break through their lines. So several Dragon Shouts and a bloodied leg later she could be found panting at the Gates cursing the day High Elves decided that they would be the Narcissistic race.

She was bent over, hands on knees as she heaved heavy breaths and managed a weak healing spell to at least close the wound on her leg but until she regained her strength she would have to make do. It was then when the young Nord Companion lad approached her.

"We managed to clear the town but some Thalmor got through and are trying to get into Dragonsreach." He said as he glanced down at the injured leg, blood still seeping through. "Do you want to sit this out?"

Arken waved him off. "And let you companions have all the glory?" She asked weakly before carefully limping down the path. It was a small limp, not very noticeable if you looked but her face contorted with pain every time she pressed wait onto said leg which made the youngest Companion wonder just how bad she had been cut up.

"Do you umm… want some help?" He asked as he awkwardly ran his hand through his blonde hair. There was a high possibility he couldn't believe he was offering the Dragonborn help.

Arken could only offer him a odd look. "I've had worse."

"I think the fight might be over by the time you get there." There was a little bit of bravery in his voice. It amused her, no one offered her help. Ever. Period. They all thought Arken as the Dragonborn could take on anything.

"What's your name?" She asked to which the boy's eyes widened.

"Me? Terry. Well everyone calls me Terry." He stumbled over his words as Arken just nodded.

"Help me limp up the stairs." Terry nodded, clearly used to being ordered about as he moved to allow her to place a hand on his shoulder and apply most of her weight to him. By the time they got up there only one Dominion Soldier remained. He was a captain, held himself highly even in the face of death.

"You dogs may defeat me but you can't defeat the Dominion! We are far superior to you… men." He spat. He was quickly killed.

"We could have questioned him." A Guard said but Kodlak sighed and shook his head.

"He was getting ready to cast a spell, I don't know what but we couldn't take the risk." The Harbinger turned to Arken. "I heard you were fighting the Elves on the front lines."

Arken nodded as she shifted her weight trying to find a comfortable position to stand in. "I met an old… friend I suppose. I sent him back to the Aldmeri Dominion in disgrace but it's very likely he'll be back."

"Terrance, could you take Arken to the temple and make sure she's seen too?" Kodlak asked to which Terry nodded and looked at Arken to see what she would say. "I highly suggest you carry her."

It was only then when Arken realised just how much taller than her this nord was and sighed. She hadn't inherited the Altmer height, that was for certain. Terry carefully lifted her up in his arms making sure not to get any of the blood on himself before nodding to his Harbinger.

"Anything else Harbinger?" He asked.

"Accompany her back up when she's healed and rested." He said, perhaps advised and Terry nodded before taking her back down to ground level and watching over her as the Priests of Kyne healed her leg.

"How did you walk on this?" One asked as he prodded the injury carefully.

"With difficulty." Arken replied as she glared at the door. Terry smothered his laugh while the priest carefully flooded his healing magic into her leg. The skin stitched itself back together as her muscle quickly closed the cut with the bleeding stopped and the pain somewhat numbed Arken stood. "We leave, now."

Any thought of rest had fled when there was so much to do. War was fought in two ways, with weapons and with words. Words could lead to more weapons and they needed more able bodied soldiers.

At the request of the Jarl, Arken waited for Ulfric and Tullius to arrive. The news they brought was less than desireable.

"I can't command men to forget a civil war." Ulfric said at the small table that sat just before the Great Porch. "They're out for blood Tullius, you'd be lying if you said your boys weren't the same."

Tullius expression was grim as he nodded in agreement. "Dragonborn, if there's one thing our men have in common. It's their respect for you."

"I am not being a figurehead." Arken's response was quick, almost violently so as she lurched to her feet and shook her head with vigor. "I will not send men to their death while I sit behind the lines."

"What other choice do we have?" Ulfric asked with a sigh. "My men won't follow Elsif, and Tullius's Boy's won't follow me. There is no High King or Queen to band us together, you're our best choice."

Arken growled as she leant on the table and glared at the map of Skyrim before pushing off and pacing. It was too much to ask, to ask her to shoulder the responsibility of blood of the innocents on her hands. No matter what she did, no matter who she fought Arken had never killed someone she thought to be innocent.

"I can't have that blood on my hand's or the responsibility on my shoulders. I've done it enough." She sighed before whipping around to face the men in the room. Ulfric, Tullius, Kodlak, Balgruuf and even Terrance. "I demand the moot."

"We've just said-" Ulfric began but Arken raised her hand to silence him.

"I demand the Moot." She repeated. "I have a lot of sway as the Dragonborn, more than I ever imagined."

"Who will you back?" Tullius asked.

"Balgruuf." She said and everyone just watched her in shock. "Balgruuf is neutral, he effectively sponsored me into being the Dragonborn. He's known through Skyrim as my most trusted ally. The Thieves Guild won't even touch him because of it. It's… perfect." She smiled to herself before giving the men a questioning look.

"I couldn't." Balgruuf said. "Even so the other Jarls have loyalties, they wouldn't vote for me." He was picking an excuses, Balgruuf was a simple Nord. He had everything he wanted and he didn't want anymore. The Jarl of Whiterun had a life that kept him pleasantly challenged but didn't stress him to insanity. The look on his face said that the job as High King would most likely.

"We need a High King, it's the only thing that'll band the Nords on opposite sides together. They'll be fighting for their country, not their candidates for the throne." Arken said. "If Ulfric becomes High King, we'll have a problem. If Elisif becomes High Queen, we'll have even more problems." Arken's voice trailed off for a moment before she smiled. "If you, my dear friend, become High King. You're neutral, you're well liked."

"What about the votes?" Balgruuf asked, pushing his point further.

"Ulfric." Arken said, looking towards the Jarl of Windhelm. "You can't just step back from the Moot but you can make a statement. Make it evident to the Jarl's that you would rather lose to Balgruuf than Elsif because you trust he'll make the right decisions for the Nords."

"What of Elisif?" Ulfric asked.

"I'll ask her to do the same."

"And if she refuses?" The smile that played on Arken's lips was almost scary. It gave a promise of destruction and damnation.

"I grew up in Altmer Court, if you can't fight someone in battle you salt their fields and disgrace them." She sighed, an overly dramatic one. "I promised not to get involved in Politics but you need this, Skyrim needs this. We need to band together to even consider taking on this war in earnest."

"Ulfric, Tullius, The Dragonborn has spoken. Do you accept her counsel?" Kodlak asked, stepping forward as the neutral mediator in this.

"I accept." Tullius said with a curt nod.

"I accept." Ulfric replied.

"Balgruuf, our makeshift war council has spoken." Kodlak smiled a little to himself. "Do you accept our counsel?"

Balgruuf sighed and nodded slowly. "I accept the Counsel. Where will the moot be held?"

"Kodlak, send message to the Greybeards and beg, on my behalf, to have them hold the Second War Council at High Hrothgar. They understand that even they are at threat." Arken bit her lip. "I'll go speak to Elisif, Tullius I trust you'll come with me?" The General nodded.

"Strategic battle isn't my forte, I rely far too heavily on my instincts but I always excelled in Political Manoeuvres." She glanced at the rest of them. "From here on our we are the war council, do you accept my decree?"

There was a small round of acceptance before Terry stepped forward. "What would you like me to do?"  
"The Companions represent the neutral ground, I suppose. No loyalties in the Civil War. I suppose it is better for you to come with me to make sure I mediate and not show my dislike for a certain side… or person. As long as Kodlak is okay with that?" Kodlak nodded but looked to Terry.

"That sounds pretty good. Not many people can say you've travelled with the Dragonborn." He rubbed the back of his neck, a light blush dusting over his face.

War waited for no one so Tullius, the Dragonborn and her new lackey quickly set off and thankfully met no resistance as they made their way to the Capital of Skyrim. The Guards parted in almost shock as they saw the General and the Dragonborn walk in through the gates and all the way to the Blue Palace.

"Elisif…" Arken began doing her best to hide her distaste for the woman. Court was in Session and here the Dragonborn was interrupting it. Elisif glared at her, Falk glared at her and the rest of the court glared at her. "The Moot has been called, you will give me a private audience."  
Elisif's eyes widened before she shook herself to regain composure. "You need to wait until the court finishes." She stated as she tried to hold her authority but Arken had none of it.

"Elisif…" She began, her voice gaining a dangerous edge but Tullius stopped her and turned to look at the Jarl of Solitude.

"Elisif, grant the Dragonborn a private Audience."

The Jarl looked somewhat indignant as she dismissed her court before getting up and leading the trio into her private chambers. "The moot will take a month to organise, I don't see what's some important."  
Arken picked up an apple and took a bite from it as she casually browsed Elisif's books. "I called the Moot, it'll happen in a few days."

"You can't call the moot!" The Jarl's voice raised in surprise to which Arken gave her a funny look.

"I'm Thane in every hold, I saved the world three times and did I mention I was Dovahkiin." Arken said with a tense laugh, pointing out the obvious. "The Dominion has declared war, I would have thought you of all people would have heard but you're all trapped in your little shells."

"Arken…" Terry whispered but Arken shushed him.

"I'm here to ask a favour. Skyrim won't unite under you, it won't unite under Ulfric and I sure as Oblivion aren't Nord enough to become High King. So you make a statement before the moot begins, tell the Jarl's that if you loose you would much rather lose to Balgruuf than Ulfric. You trust Balgruuf to make the right choices for Skyrim."

Elisif watched Arken for a few moments before shaking her head. "No! Balgruuf won't punish Ulfric for killing my husband! He'll let the traitor live! Skyrim will unite under me because I am the true High Queen."

"Elisif-" Tullius began.

"How dare you Tullius? You promised you'd avenge his death! You promised me!" It was so close to a scream, the pain raw but it was misplaced.  
"Well I suppose it's time to send out messages to the Jarl's to tell the the moot is in High Hrothgar." Arken said as she drummed her fingers on a book. "Do you mind if I borrow this?"

Elisif just stared at her.

"I'll take that as a no." Arken turned to Tullius. "To your tower of Solitude then? We have much to discuss."

Arken and Terry didn't miss the almost pitiful look Tullius gave Elisif that practically told the Jarl she made the wrong choice. Then they left, leaving Elisif to glare after them.

When in Castle Dour Arken sat down at an empty desk and sighed.

"I won't say I'm sorry for this Tullius, but it has to be done." She said to which the General nodded.

The letter's were all the same.

 _Dear Jarl (Various Names)_

 _I, as the Dragonborn, have called the Moot to truly unite Skyrim. We are at war with the Dominion and the matter is so serious Ulfric and Tullius have set aside their differences. I ask as soon as you receive this letter to make your way to High Hrothgar so we can hold the Moot and finally decide who is the true High King or Queen of Skyrim._

 _Jarl Balgruuf has entered as a candidate to this and I will not lie to you, he has my backing but I ask you not to let my opinion sway yours. The High King is elected by Jarls as they know what's best for Skyrim and who can lead it well._

 _Ulfric has vowed to protect Skyrim no matter what, so I ask for any of you that hold hatred for him to put it aside for the sake of your great Country. He has put aside his dislike for Elisif for the sake of you all. Greater men have refused to do less._

 _Elisif still holds much hatred in her heart, while I cannot blame her we can't let hatred cloud our judgement. We need to band together in this time of need despite what has happened in the past. If Elisif becomes High Queen I ask you to tell her to stay her hand with Ulfric, while you may question him and his morals we cannot question his ability to lead. He's an asset we need for our time is dire._

 _The Fate of Skyrim is in your hands, and I can only pray you make the right choice._

 _Yours,_

 _Arken Creek - The Dragonborn_

"How does it look?" Arken asked as she felt Terry read over her shoulder.

"I'm not very good with Politics or writing but I think you're set the seeds of doubt for Elisif while you've concreted the need for Ulfric." He said as he scratched behind his ear. "Hopefully the other Jarls will vote for Balgruuf because they don't want to vote for Ulfric. Then some of Ulfric's supporters might vote for Balgruuf because they feel like he's a safe bet."

"Do you get a vote?" Tullius asked.

"For what I understand I might get the honour to be the tie breaker in the case of a tie." Arken said before quickly copying the letter but addressing it to other Jarls. "Tullius, your best and your fastest. The Divine's speed and blessing to them all." Tullius nodded and took the offered documents.

"What will happen to Elisif?" He asked in a low voice.

"We need her alive for this to work but I fear she might be driven to the Dominion and then…" Arken didn't continue but Tullius understood and walked away clutching the documents in hand.

Terry glanced at Arken. "Do you think, you know, the False King will have any effect on the Moot?" He whispered it, the name practically taboo to say allowed.

"I don't know, they'll probably back whoever they think is best for business. We'll just have to hope their interests align with ours." The Half-Elf shrugged as she spoke.

"Maybe we should approach him, he's apparently like an information broker or something. He'll have loads of information on the enemy."  
Arken smiled a little at this. "While I doubt their on the enemy side I don't think we'll get help from the King, their subjects or the court. They work on a thin line between questionable and utterly illegal. The secret is the advantage." She tapped her chin in thought. "I think we'll have to do business with them in the future, when our interests truly align."

"Unless it's information I don't see what else they could give." Terry said with a youthful naivety.

"I don't think their Kingdom is built purely on information." Arken replied. "I imagine deep coffers and shady dealings."

Tullius had stated he'll leave with Elisif so Arken and Terry left quickly and made their way to High Hrothgar. The Youngest companion was still rather star struck by the ever annoyed Dragonborn who was getting somewhat sick of the puppy dog expressions.

"The trek up to High Hrothgar is pretty long, cold too and often dangerous. I keep asking myself how frost trolls get up there so quickly but the World doesn't abide by my rules unfortunately." Arken said as she gazed at the Throat of the World from a distance. "The Greybeards are okay for the most part I suppose. They often treat me like a petulant child but most of them mean well."

Terry nodded along. "Do they have a say in the Moot?"  
Arken shook her head. "The Jarl's will likely ask the Greybeards for council though, as they will most likely ask me. I plan to use this to manipulate them further into thinking that perhaps Balgruuf is the best option for High King."

"I'm not sure it's the nord way, all the manipulating Politics and stuff. We're warriors, not politicians." The Dragonborn secretly decided that what Terry just said was possibly the most Companion thing she'd ever heard and was greatly amused by it.

"While the world doesn't play by my rules, the War will. My game is Politics. I'm an exceptional fighter but in the Summerset Isles what's the point being a good fighter if you'll get destroyed and disgraced in the courtroom?" Arken sighed, the Nord's believed their way was the best way when it was… somewhat very old fashioned.

"But manipulating it, it doesn't seem very honourable." Terry tried again, pressing the subject a little further.

"My end goal is honourable, the unification of Skyrim." Arken replied to which Terry nodded, agreeing somewhat.

"I suppose you have to get your hands dirty." He said finally conceding.

The Half-Elf let out a sigh. "I hate to tell you kid, but I'm not some honourable hero. I did what I had to and I'm not exactly proud of it but it doesn't mean I regret it." She clicked her tongue. "I've been told that Heroes are People who do what has to be done when it needs to be done, regardless of the consequences."

Terry's pace slowed as he watched the Dragonborn, the woman of legend who was made out to be an honourable, honour bound, glory driven hero who fought righteously against the Darkness. It was the face of someone who realised their Hero wasn't what they expected. "You're not a hero because you're honourable or great even, you're a hero because you had to be?"

"Have, really. I still am a Hero in some respects. Not that I'd ever admit that, wouldn't want people to think I was as Narcissistic as my elven brethren. I did what I had to do, I was terrified for most of it. I didn't want to die and some many people were counting on me. A small Half-Elf whose only notable ability was Defensive Magic and some skills with the blade, and yeah I made a pretty good thief but… you can't rob a dragon. I was top of my class in the Mages College I attended but that and the real thing does not equate." She sighed. "I screamed at my first Draugr. Like a little girl."

"How did you defeat them?" He asked, somewhat amused at the idea of the Dragonborn being terrified of somewhat lowly creatures. It elevated the situation somewhat.

"I was a Great Mage, despite my lack of destructive power but I could channel my magic in holy ways and if there's one thing the Undead hate, it's Holy Magic." She offered a shrug and a smile. "Balgruuf trained me with me when I got back, I trust him with my life. Farengar was at loss about my magic." She smirked to herself.

"Most Mages go for the Destructive route, it's rare to find a dedicated healer unless they're a priest."

And so the duo made their way to High Hrothgar and were the first to arrive. They Greybeards were unsurprised to see the Dragonborn and all nodded in respect as they gestured towards the were the War Council had been held previously.

"The Jarls will seek council and who you believe should be become the Ruler of Skyrim. You will say Jarl Balgruuf." Arken said, holding herself with authority that she wasn't really sure she possessed over the Greybeards. "He is the only one out of the Candidates that can unify Skyrim. Without the unification Skyrim is doomed."

The Greybeards nodded, seemingly accepting her counsel.

"I'm glad you agree." She said as she sat down at the table and lifted a goblet to her lip.

"Do you seek counsel from us Dragonborn?" Arngeir asked, his voice little more than a whisper as the robbed men watched her. Arken shook her head and the Greybeards left the room.

"Waiting aggravates me, not because I'm impatient because I hate the question when. When will it come? When will it strike?" She said tipping the red liquid into her mouth. "Where, I hate that too. Where will it happen? Where will it be done?" She wiped a singular red drop of liquid with the sleeve of her shirt. "The longer you have to wait, the less ready you become."

Terry nodded, not quite understanding what she meant before he gestured towards her sword. "I've never seen one like that before."

Arken's eyes widened a little before she nodded and unsheathed the wicked blade. A silver blade that looked as if it had been forged from silver Stardust. Wicked but somewhat graceful spikes guarded the handle that was embedded with blood rubies. An ancient language was etched up the blade on each side of the expanded metal which had a depiction of a Dragon and underneath was the name Ayrenn.

"It's a Wicked Blade, bound to me until the day I die or it finds a worthy Master. It takes my life blood to fuel its wicked power, bares the name I was born by and uses the life force of my dead foes to keep it self in repair and existence." She looked disgusted at the blade, like the very idea that it could exists horrified her but she wielded it with a finesse that suggested she was one with her blade.

"Then why do you use it?" He asked.

"It's sentient, alive in it's own way. It'd find another and let them have it's wicked power better I use it than someone else." Arken stood and sheathed the blade as the look on her face hardened. "It was forged with the remains of a dead god apparently, perhaps the god was wicked but perhaps he was not but all that remains is a blade that will hopefully never fall into the wrong hands."

"You hands are the right ones?"

"No, perhaps not." Her fingers tightened around the hilt of it. "I got it before the Great War."

Flashback:

 _Her sword glinted in the moonlight, the light reflecting onto her face revealing a cold glare. She moved it readying it for an attack only for the light to show her mouth in a grim line of determination. Arken kept the blade in front of her as she grasped the hilt in both hands waiting for the right moment._

 _"You betrayed the Dominion!" The High Elf who stood a little way in front of her shouted. His voice wrought with anger and pain, an undeniable sadness. His features were soft for a High Elf, his eyes were more gentle than the rest of his brethren but hardened with hurt. Long black hair was tied to the side that contrasted greatly with his pale skin as he just glared with cool blue eyes._

 _She stood in the Empire's armour, a simple soldier in leather armour proudly displaying the Symbol of the Empire. Arken wore the Dragon with pride believing that she chose what was right in loving memory of her mother. An Imperial woman who loved Cyrodiil._

 _"I betray nothing!" Arken shouted back in anger. "The Empire does not need the Dominion!"_

 _"The Dominion raised you!" The elf shouted back as he too began to ready his sword in one hand as he held it to the side of him his other hand moving towards the dagger that glinted on his belt._

 _"You dare ready your weapons at me?" Arken sneered. "You're nothing but a magic deficient freak! A shame upon the name of elves, they probably sent you here because you're expendable."_

 _"I'm more than a Magic deficient freak, I'm your brother." The High Elf snarled at her. It broke whatever was holding Arken back and she launched forwards. Their blades clashed and the sound echoed around them._

 _Arken jumped back and readied herself again before launching out in a flurry of attacks which were all deflected. As she regained her momentum Arken found herself summoning magic to coat her body to negate the attacks towards her._

 _"My mother was an Imperial, I fight in her memory." Arken snarled, but despite it all she sounded, sad as she dispelled the barrier to bring her sword down on his._

 _"What of our father?"_

 _"My father, you're adopted Galerion. Always felt second best to me, a half elf that as treasured more than you. Father adopted you before I was born but he loved me more."_

 _He launched an attack at her so strong she was sent staggering back._

 _"He was so ashamed of you he hid you away. I didn't even know you existed until I was twenty five." She grit out as she brought the blade back around, crashing it into his. She applied most of her strength and weight to it causing Galerion to falter._

 _"He wants you to come back. The Dominion will ignore your little indiscretion." He said gently to which she sighed and moved back, sheathing her blade._

 _Arken reached out and cupped his cheek with one hand and gave a sad smile. "Families often end up on other sides of a war, this is no different. The Dominion dream of a time where men were enslaved to mer, it's not something I can allow."_

 _He placed his hand over hers and sighed, gently squeezing it. "Just come back Ayrenn. If not for yourself for our father, for me."  
Arken just shook her head gently but in an instant her adopted brother placed a kiss on her lips and stepped back._

 _"You have the wicked Blade Ayrenn. Do you really think you can control it?" He asked as he gestured to the blade sheathed by her side. "Father knows you have it. He wants you to come lock it away before anyone else finds out."_

 _"What does it do Galerion?"_

 _"It damages people more when it attacks, can manipulate emotions, it can make people flee or end up in a rage and worst of all it can shatter a soul." Galerion sighed. "I love you Ayrenn, more than I should and I don't want that blade to bring you down or to see you on opposite side of the war. It'll warp your mind, make you agree with it's evil ways."_

"Well I haven't turned evil yet." Arken murmured to which Terry looked up, not quite hearing what she said but she just waved him off. "Or maybe I have and I don't see it." She finished so quietly it was as if she was mouthing the words.

Hours passed before the first Jarl Arrived, Laila Law-Giver, Jarl of Riften who came with her housecarl and a small group of soldiers. Laila smiled at Arken, a wary smile but a smile all the same.

"I received your letter but I ask for you council in person." Laila Law-Giver said. "I firmly follow Ulfric yet you push for Balgruuf, why?"

Arken smiled and motioned for the woman to follow her into the hall and downwards a bit for some privacy. "Ulfric can't unite Skyrim, Elsif will hand it over to the elves. You're a good woman Laila, I trust you can put your personal beliefs aside for the good of Skyrim. Confer with the Greybeards if you heart and mind are still at war, their wisdom greatly exceeds mine."  
With these words the Jarl nodded and left, presumably making her way towards the Greybeards. Idgrod Ravencrone passed Laila Law-Giver but the air between them didn't seem tense, as if Lalia had accepted what she needed to do and Idgrod already knew.

"Ayrenn." Arken visibly flinched when the elder Jarl called her by her birthname but Idgrod had once had a vision about the Half-Elf for years in the future and swore only to call her by her true name. "You'll have to get used to it, some day that will be the only name you use."

"A sad day it will be when it comes." Arken replied. "I doubt you want my council Idgrod, perhaps you have something to teach me?" She asked and Idgrod nodded.

The older woman smiled, gesturing for the Dragonborn to take a seat before sitting opposite her and taking the the Half-Elves battle worn hands into her own. "If you take the weight of the world onto your shoulders, you will die. I have foreseen this. Yet, love comes from the strangest of places and even if only to give you a reason to live you shall survive."

"I already know my death comes." Arken said as she took her hands back and laying them neatly onto her lap. "Love is something foreign to me but still, I have given my life to this world three times to save it and if to save it a fourth it takes my life. I'm okay with that."

The smile the nord gave her was gentle. "You sweet child, the world hasn't been kind to you yet you still offer your life up." Idgrod stood and left.

It was then when Terry took a step in. "All the Jarls want to talk to you, so I'll just make sure each one is seen separately." He sounded a little nervous, not used to being around so many important people.

"Thank you, make sure they talk to the Greybeards as well. Has everyone arrived?" Terry shook his head.

"Mostly it's people they've sent ahead. The furthest out is just short of a day away. Jarl Siddgeir should be here soon though, followed by Jarl Skald. Jarl Idgrod got here fast but maybe she had a vision about it all." Terry said before making his way to leave.

"You trust her visions?"

Terry paused and glanced behind him. "Um… she's never lead anyone astray and Kodlak always said there's more to this world than it appears. Nobody would have thought Alduin would have came back, so they didn't believe the legend and here you are." She nodded, and smiled before he left.

 ***** POV Change - Valnath *****

"When you said you could bring my sister back... " Galerion began but paused, sighed and then tried again. "Didn't you think that maybe she was still the better mage? She's _Dovahkiin_ which father said that most likely enhances her power. She absorbs the soul of Dragon's, everyone knows souls possess magic." The black haired Altmer offered a awkward smile and sat back on his chair.

Valnath let out an aggravated breath and pushed off the cold wall to pace around the small and dim room. His footfalls landing heavily on the stone flooring. "Yes well, I hoped she'd come to her senses."

Galerion raised an eyebrow and shrugged. "She fought against us in the Great War. Her siding with the Empire and Skyrim was expected." He crossed his arms and continued to watch Valnath wear a hole into the floor. Galerion wasn't slender like most elves, muscular was a good word for it. Like he trained everyday from dawn to dusk to prove himself against his brethren, that the fact he couldn't use magic didn't matter.

Valnath stopped and sighed. "You live too much in the past Galerion, you think too much of how it was and not how it is. Your sister, dare I call her that due to your love of her, is not the woman you remember." Valnath paused, as if trying to find a way to describe her. "She used to be so full of life and now… she just seems tired like she doesn't have a reason to live. Not really."

 ***** POV Change - Arken *****

Arken shivered, as if someone was talking about her but it was an old wives tale and so she waited, occasionally reading and occasionally peering out of the window to see if she could make anything out in the white abyss.

"Arken, you're looking as pretty as always." Arken had always done her best to like the Jarls, to gain their respect so she could work freely throughout their holds. The title of Thane was just a bonus, but it was always good if she was caught doing something questionable. Jarl Siddgeir had always been the exception. She couldn't bring herself to like the young Jarl, she considered him a lay about, useless and not worth an ounce of her time.

She supposed her great dislike of him started when he wouldn't talk to her until she got him some Black-Briar Mead all the way from Riften.

"What do you want Siddgeir? You won't listen to my council." Her tone was harsh, harsher than it really should have been bit Siddgeir just smiled and sat down opposite her.

"I was wondering what you could offer me to side with Balgruuf." He said, leaning back on his chair as his eyes raked over the Half-Elf.

She barely contained a snarl. "Why wouldn't you? He is the best choice, even you should be able to see that."

Siddgeir scoffed, as if the answer was obvious. "Balgruuf is a 'true nord' he won't allow me to carry on the way I am. Elsif however, will. I really don't want to have to put all that effort in."

Arken paused, really considering how stupid this man was. "The Dominion will enslave us all, Balgruuf is the best choice."

"What will you offer me Arken?" He asked.

She shrugged. "I have no idea what you would want."

Siddgeir then lent forward, touching the fabric just above the Dragonborn's breasts. "I've bedded many women, but none as beautiful and powerful as you. I know of your… escapes Arken but don't worry, this can be our little secret." With that he kissed her.

 ***** POV Change - Terry *****

Jarl Skald was a kind man, but stuck in his ways and supported the Stormcloaks perhaps a tad to zealously. Terry supposed he'd be one of the people who would vote for who they had intended to. It wasn't that Terry didn't believe in the Dragonborn, he just thought this man was too far gone.

"You've been travelling with the Dragonborn, how's that been?" The Jarl asked with a small reminiscing smile, as he was remembering the days of old.

Terry mentally stumbled over his words before collecting himself and speaking. "We haven't done much travelling, not really but she's nice. She um… doesn't mind slowing down to explain something if I don't get it."

"Just nice boy? She's stolen many a young man's heart. I fought by her side in the Great War, who was I to know that cheeky Half-Elf was going to turn into the Dragonborn?" Skald laughed. "The first thing she ever said to me was 'I'd need a step if I was going to punch you in the face'."

"She has her own brand of humour." Terry agreed as her awkwardly stood there, wondering what he did to deserve this. Terry wasn't a people person, and now here he was talking to some of the most important people in Skyrim.

From then on it was general chit chat, Terry asked about how things were in Dawnstar and Skald asked about life with the companions. It only ended with Siddgeir walking into the room with a very satisfied smirk.

"Perhaps Arken was right, we need to put down our petty grievances with each other. It doesn't matter if Elisif or Ulfric on the throne, we'll basically be handing ourselves to the elves. Balgruuf is the better choice, we as leaders should see that." He said, looking directly at Skald. "We need to protect our people, don't we?"

Skald seemed wary but agreed before walking down the hallway Siddgeir just appeared from.

"Do you think we have a chance of winning this war Companion?" Siddgeir asked to which Terry looked at him a little surprised but quickly settled himself.

He nodded slowly. "A chance, definitely. We have the Dragonborn, the Imperials and Stormcloaks are just steps away from banding together for the cause."

Siddgeir nodded along, as if listening intently. "I don't presume to know her, but what people seem to forget is that the Dragonborn is also a woman with thoughts and feelings, hopes and aspirations."

The Companion paused. "What do you mean?"

Siddgeir shrugged. "Like I said, I don't presume to know her but do you really think she wants to be doing this for the rest of her life? Assuming she keeps conquering her foes she's going to be at this long after we die." This confused Terry, it was rather profound coming from the man the companions had nicknamed the Pillock. "She's a beautiful woman, she deserves to be treated like a queen." It was safe to say Terry was no longer confused.

"And you could treat her like a Queen?" From anyone else that would have probably sounded like an insult but from the innocent companion it just sounded like any other question.

Siddgeir snorted. "No, she needs someone to love her for who she is. What I am giving her is not love." Tery didn't catch on. "I wonder when the last time was when someone asked how she was?"

 *****Pov Change - Arken*****

Skald didn't sit. "I understand your reasoning Dragonborn, but I can't say I like it." He sighed and rubbed his beard. "I'm not a stupid man, Skyrim needs to unite to even be able to ward the Elves off. I just can't shake the feeling everything Ulfric Stormcloak has done will be for naught."

Arken nodded slowly, as if in understanding. "It will be, every drop of blood, sweat and tears put into this rebellion will amount to nothing. Nothing will change, technically we'll remain part of the Empire even if it's just in name. We fought against the Dominion together Skald, you found me after the elves tortured me. It took me twenty or so years to recover from that."

"Where did you go?" Skald asked. Arken smiled, she hadn't stayed with the Empire after that. Took an honorable discharge and fled, unable to face it anymore.

"I travelled Tamriel, I went to High Rock to see where the Hero of Daggerfall came from. I did a small stint here in Skyrim to visit where the Eternal Champion was born. The same for the Nerevarine, I visited Valenwood and then followed their steps as much as I could around Morrowind." Arken sighed. "After the dust had settled, well and truly, I went back to Cyrodiil where the Champion of Cyrodiil both came from and saved. I followed her path as well. Between then and coming back to Skyrim, I studied really. Drowned myself in knowledge."

Skald offered her a small but kind smile. "Are you sure you want to join another war?"

Arken shrugged, but shook her head. "I'm much more powerful than I used to be, I am my own army. I've saved the world three times, at this point it's a hobby. If the elves take over, it might as well be the end of the world so what's a fourth time? If I don't step up, who will?"

She sighed, and glanced out the window as if she wanted to stop but continued anyway. "All the other heroes are dead, or if not they might as well be. People need someone to look up to, leaders are great and all but it's nothing like watching someone on the battlefield. Leaders aren't the same because they have to be part of the war but I don't, though the fact I am brings hope. I am not a hero people need me to be but they don't know that so I fight, I continue on trying to be that person."

Skald crossed his arms and looked at Arken, really looked at her. "They brought his body back."

"I know."

"Have you visited his grave?" Arken shook her head. "How are you Arken?"

The Half-Elf closed her eyes and shook her head. "I'm on the opposite side of the war from my family, again. I have so much resting on my shoulders it's weighing me down. You know, I was tortured in the cell next to Ulfric. He doesn't know but he told me there was a woman in the cell next to him, he never saw her but he knew how bad her torture was. He said the fact that she didn't submit, didn't crumble kept him going. I am not okay Skald, but I will not submit and I will not crumble, I will give people a reason to go on like I gave Ulfric." Defiance, it was thick in her voice. The whole world seemingly against her and she spat in its face.

 _She had honestly considered just offing herself, more than once as she sat chained to the wall in the dingy and damp cell. It was dark, cramped and covered with her blood. They tried to make her break, to destroy her will and spirit but she stood strong when all she wanted to do was fall. Her clothes were in shreds, her skin more purple and bruised than it's usual fair self. Her hair was caked in blood and dirt, she was convinced she'd have to cut it off when she got out. If she ever got out._

 _Despite the torture, the fact they only fed her enough to keep her alive, what was doing her in was the silence. The groans of pain from the cell next to hers was almost welcome, almost. The man in the cell next to her was strong, he never screamed, never gave them that satisfaction. But it had been so silent for the past day or so, and it was getting to her._

 _"Are you dead?" She asked the silence, her voice hoarse and cracked from her refusal to speak to her 'interrogators'. Like the man she wouldn't scream, a small victory for her when everything else was loss._

 _Moments past, the silence only filled with the hammering of her heart. "... I wish I was." Nord, it was a thick Nordic accent. She assumed he was quite young despite the flame in his voice doused, maybe even destroyed._

 _She chuckled. "Yeah, but if I die Chuckles and Sunshine will stop getting shit from their higher ups." The more she talked, the more her voice found ease and her body relaxed. As if whatever had happened in the past or future just didn't matter anymore. "You can't get information from a girl!" Her voice, low and mocking before she chuckled to herself._

 _"You're barely an adult, aren't you?" The voice asked, at first she'd thought pity filled his voice but quickly realised it was empathy. Both very young and trapped, their lives either about to come to a sudden end or be scarred for the rest of their lives._

 _So she snorted. "You can't be much older." It was met by silence. "Naval Officer Jarol, by the way." Jarol, her mother's maiden name and how she clung so desperately to her human side. It wasn't common knowledge that her mother had married her father, or that they even know each other and such gave her the secrecy she so desired._

 _"Ulfric Stormcloak." The reply came. "That's imperial name but you don't sound Imperial."_

 _Arken had nodded to herself. "Yeah… my Mother was in the Summerset Isles for a time, in their College. I did most of my studies there."_

 _"Did she?" While the question was never fully asked, it hung there and caused Arken to let out a shuddering sigh._

 _"No, she didn't make it out."_

"You know the rest, they went to move me back to the Summerset Isles and luckily you intercepted the Caravan. I had never been so happy to see your Ugly Mug." Arken let out a tired, and sad laugh. "You vote for whoever you think is right Skald, I've offered you my piece."  
Skald nodded and with that left. Leaving her to her own thoughts and wonders. She was still a child really, in Elven years anyways. Her father's family had a thing about long livety, she was pretty sure her four times Great Grandfather was kicking around somewhere not that anyone beyond her Grandfather talked to them after her father married her mother.

She rested her head against the cold stone wall and sighed. There were times she wished she could just go back, back to studying until the wee hours of the morning with Valnath as they crammed for a test they were both prepared for but worried either way. Back to sparring with Galerion because he was insistent she needed a back up to magic. Even reading in her Father's study, while he worked but would occasionally ask her what she thought of the book. By Oblivion, she would go back to all the political games in the Courts.

"Plotting how to kill someone?" It brought her back to reality, settling her glare on whoever dared disturb her but it softened when she saw Ulfric. She sat up and shrugged.

"Just thinking about my childhood really, although Father was insistent I wasn't an adult until 100." She paused. "I've still got a few decades to go."

Ulfric laughed and nodded. "How goes your…" He left the rest of the question open.

Arken tilted her head to the side. "I'm not sure I convinced Laila, but Idgrod understands and was already going to vote for Balgruuf without my input. Siddgeir… I guess he didn't fancy a lifetime of slavery and manual labour so he should vote for Balgruuf. Skald… for old times sake I think he'll follow my advice but he won't be happy about it."

"Elisif will not win, but I worry that my people will still vote for me." He stroked his beard, as if in thought. "Igmund is… he'll vote for Elisif."

Arken nodded. "Korir hates Mages too much, he's blinded by it. Ironic for someone who's Hold hosts the college. He'll vote for you. He believes Balgruuf to kind to them." She paused. "It… falls to Skald really. I doubt Laila will vote for Balgruuf and while Skald understands I don't think he can just let go of everything he's put into this. He's lost so much and his people don't respect him for his beliefs. He'll feel like he can't just vote for someone else."

"You read people rather well."

Arken snorted as she stood. "Nords are predictable."


End file.
